Rain and Brimstone
by Rhi
Summary: Set Post-SoU and Post-HotU. Lineth has secured her status as a famed adventurer, but when her greatest adventure is over, where will she go? More importantly, who will follow her there? A familiar kobold? A certain tiefling? People she'd rather forget...
1. Home

**Rain and Brimstone**

  
  


Lineth Raine sat in front of the small campfire, legs crossed, wooden spoon poised in the act of raising a mouthful of the steaming liquid to her mouth. She wasn't really hungry, but the soup was made from Velox Berries, and did much to soothe a cold body.

She finished off the last few scalding mouthfuls and set the bowl aside, looking around and up at the house.

It seemed more dismal than the last time she'd seen it, more devoid of _life_. Even with the thick blanket of snow covering everything, the house seemed darker than the whiteness around it. The atmosphere had gone away from it, ever since its previous occupant had...

Lineth frowned. It was still difficult for her to think of her old Master Drogan as dead. She'd escaped the collapsing temple before it had happened, and had not seen the old dwarf fall, but she knew he was dead. It was more of a...feeling than actual knowledge, really.

It seemed an age ago that she had trained in this house. She had been quite young - only one hundred years old, which _was_ young for an elf - when she had travelled to Hilltop and to the huge house overlooking it. She'd trained, and she'd fought, and in the course of that training she had travelled across the Silver Marches and through the Great Wastes of Anarouch...

And after that, after Drogan's death and the defeat of the medusa Heurodis who sought to raise the flying city of Undrentide from the sands, she had escaped for a time into the Shadow Plane. A place of darkness, of everlasting night, she could barely remember what had transpired there, or how long she had spent there.

She shuddered as she thought of the small, round artefact she had found in that dark place. The Relic of the Reaper. Something that saved her from death, countless times. Later, she'd found out it was a piece of flesh from the arch-devil, Mephistopheles...

It had taken many days and many nights to travel from Waterdeep. The newly fortified city had been a safe haven once the Valsharess - leader of the drow armies that threatened it and summoner of Mephistopheles - had been defeated, but Lineth Raine had not been wont to remain there.

She'd been hailed as a hero, once she emerged from Undermountain, covered in blood and grime and dirt. She barely remembered the welcome she'd received; all she could recollect was collapsing in a nice, soft bed and then later being told she had slept for a week.

Lineth sighed and shook her head, feeling the warmth of the Velox Berry soup coursing through her. Yet it could not warm her heart, and the memories still plagued her mind.

It was bad enough, with all the fighting and the betrayal and the endless days without sleep, without adding _love_ into the equation as well.

What an unlikely place to find such a thing! Love in the Underdark! It sounded like some cheap penny-bit romance novel. Lineth frowned at the course her thoughts were taking her, and looked back towards the house.

The big house was dark now. Lineth had knocked upon the door, but no one had been home. She could have used the lock picks in her pack to open the door, but it did not feel right to force her way into her old home. So she had elected to wait.

She had spoken to a few of the villagers, or tried to, as they kept falling to their knees and bowing most offensively at her. She smiled briefly. Finally, she had spoken to the druid in his old shop, and been told that Xanos Messarmos, Dorna Trapspringer and Mischa Waymeet still lived in Drogan's old house.

A human paladin, a half-orc sorcerer and a dwarven rogue. What a combination. She had no doubt they were all driving each other half-mad by now.

A crunching from the footpath brought her out of her amused reverie. Lineth raised herself to her feet and turned towards the direction of the sound, able to deduce from her training that two people - one large and one small - were approaching.

As they drew closer, the sound of arguing came with them.

"You didn't need to be so insistent about the prices, orc! They were fair enough, considering the coldness of the winter this year. It's awfully hard to get goods up here--"

"Dwarf - Dorna, he was charging us an inordinate amount! It was _offensive_. If you hadn't been present I would have-"

"Xanos, I would have thought you'd changed after all the business with Undrentide. But you haven't! You're still the same infuriating, pig-headed, stubborn--Here, who's that?"

The voices had rounded the crest of the hill and come into sight of Lineth. She was wearing her dark cloak, so no doubt was still wreathed in shadow to the two figures.

She strode forward briskly and watched in amusement as Xanos drew his daggers and Dorna her short sword. Lineth clucked her tongue and shook her head.

"Now, now. Dorna, Xanos, don't you recognize your old training partner?"

Dorna dropped her sword, and Xanos his jaw. Lineth laughed, something she had not done in many weeks. 

"Lineth! Lineth Raine? Is that you?" Dorna said, forgetting about her sword and rushing forwards. For a rogue, she did make an awful lot of noise, Lineth thought.

"Yes, it's me," she said. "I've returned at last. And to find the house empty, no less. I've been camped out here for hours."

Dorna finally reached her, and in an unprecedented show of affection from a dwarf, embraced her around the waist. Lineth laughed, surprised, and hugged Dorna back. "It is good to see you too, old friend. Xanos? No hug from you?"

"Unlikely, Elf," he snapped, but he was smiling as he put away his daggers. "It has been a long time."

"It has," Lineth agreed as Dorna released her. "Let's go inside, shall we? There's only so many hours one can sit in front of a dwindling fire in the snow..."

"Of course!" Dorna said heartily. She slapped Lineth on the small of her back, and the Elf smiled as she bent and picked up her pack, slinging it over her shoulders.

Xanos led the way up to the front door and produced an ornate key, inserting it into the lock. The door sprang open, and the three entered the house. In wall brackets and on tables, candles sprang to life as the half-orc waved a lazy hand.

"You've gotten good," Lineth remarked as she shook the snow off her cloak. Xanos smiled briefly.

"A mere magician's trick. And what of you, Raine? What of your adventures after Undrentide? If you've had any, of course," he added placatingly.

"It's a long story," she sighed in response, sitting down on a large, comfy-looking chair. "And when I say long story, I mean _long_."

Dorna disappeared into the kitchens and reappeared a moment later with three flagons of beer. She pulled up a chair and sat down, dispensing the beer to all assembled. Xanos leaned against the wall, his dark eyes flashing.

"We have time," he said.


	2. The Past

**Rain and Brimstone**

  
  


Lineth slept in her old room that night. It seemed smaller, somehow, but comforting in the way that ancient history is comforting. It was far behind her, this room, but the bed was still soft and that was all that mattered.

For once, the dreams did not bother her. It was quite a change from the many nightmare-plagued nights travelling across the Silver Marches. Horrible images of fire and brimstone, of snow and a cold even more biting than Hilltop's winter, of endless days with no light...

Lineth Raine slept comfortably that night.

When she woke, the house seemed busier than before. She dressed slowly, glad she had been able to take a bath and wash her grimy armour the previous night before bed. She'd spent much of the night talking to Dorna and Xanos, but had still managed to de-bloodify herself.

She walked down the stairs and was met with the sight of many halflings, seated in every chair, feet dangling a foot off the ground. They all looked quite travel-worn and bedraggled, and seemed much relieved to be out of the cold.

Only one of the halflings was standing up. She was dressed in rich purple-and-black gypsy's clothing, and had long dark hair. She was talking to the paladin Mischa Waymeet. 

Lineth walked across the room towards them. The halfling looked up and smiled. "Well, well, well. The great Lineth Raine finally awakes from her slumber."

Mischa started and turned around, smiling widely as she saw Lineth. The young paladin gave her a warm hug. "Oh, Lineth," she said, "It's so good to see you again!"

"And you, Mischa. Hello, Katriana. How's business?"

The halfling gypsy scowled. "This winter hasn't been too good, my Elven friend. I lost a couple to illness. We ran into Mischa outside Blumberg and, well...now we're here." She waved a hand.

"I see," said Lineth, looking around, "Your company certainly looks a lot better for being in the warmth again."

"Yes, well, this winter is perhaps the coldest we've ever seen," frowned Katriana. "And Xanos over there-" Xanos was talking to a couple of rather gruff-looking halflings, just his type, "said they'd found you _camping_ in front of the house."

"Well, I've had colder winters than this," said Lineth slowly. She remembered the Wastes of Cania, a dismal plane where the cold could kill you. That was where she had collected a small supply of Velox Berries, the only warm things in such a cold realm.

"Huh," said Katriana dismissively. "Well, I'm sure you two will want to catch up," she continued, addressing Mischa and Lineth, "So I'll just go and see what Torias is doing. No doubt trying to chat Dorna up again."

"I seem to remember, the first - and last - time he did that he ended up with a lockpick in a rather unmentionable place," said Lineth thoughtfully. Mischa blushed and Katriana laughed, moving off.

"Still as naive as ever, I see," said Lineth bluntly to the paladin. Mischa frowned at her.

"Such a comment isn't like you, Lineth. What's happened to you? I notice...scars..."

Lineth shrugged her shoulders with the soft clink of armour. "A grand adventure," she said loftily. "Perhaps I'm a little changed, inwardly as well as outwardly. I'm surprised Dorna and Xanos didn't fill you in; I told them everything last night." That wasn't strictly true. Lineth had told them the abridged version; the version that was probably going to go into the kobold Deekin's book. She wondered briefly what had happened to the little creature once they had parted ways in Waterdeep. 

"Yes, I regret I wasn't here to greet you," the paladin said. Lineth jerked her thoughts back to the present. "Like Katriana said, I was with her caravan. I heard word they were stranded near Blumberg and went to help them."

"Well done," said Lineth. She laughed. "Doer of good deeds, in...deed."

Mischa smiled. "How long are you staying here for?" She led Lineth towards a bench uncluttered by halflings, and they sat side-by-side.

Lineth shrugged. "I don't know. I ... hadn't really planned for it. I left Waterdeep in rather a hurry, you see."

"Yes, I heard you were mixed up with something to do with the Drow...Xanos and Dorna told me a bit of it. You were fighting one of the Matron Mothers, the Valsharess, and her arch-devil Mephit...Mephis..."

"Mephistopheles, yes," said Lineth bleakly. "I killed the Valsharess - not after she tried to pursuade me to join her, of course - and found out Mephistopheles' True Name and vanquished him with it."

"Oh," said Mischa in a small voice. "You vanquished an _arch-devil_?"

"Yes, I've come a long way since fighting kobolds, haven't I?" Lineth smiled.

"You've definitely changed," said Mischa.

"Mmm," said Lineth. Her gaze strayed into the middle distance as she sat, thinking.

"There's something more, isn't there?" said Mischa, showing uncharacteristic insight. "Something else that happened while you were in the Underdark."

"A lot of things happened, Mischa, and I can't be expected to remember all of them," she replied. "It's nothing, really. Just...a passing fancy, I suppose. For him, anyway." She added the last part under her breath, but Mischa had very good hearing.

"A _man_?" Mischa's eyes were wide. "Did you fall in _love_?"

"His commitments were to...his 'people', I suppose. His Seer." Lineth shook her head and stood up. "I think I'd like to raid the kitchens right about now, Mischa. Please tell me you have something other than beer..?"

Mischa stood as well, and her eyes were thoughtful as she surveyed the Elven woman. "Of course, Lineth...of course..."


	3. Underdark

**Rain and Brimstone**

  
  


Valen stood near the bank of the Dark River, gazing out at the black waters. A permanent scowl had fixed itself on his lips, and his handsome face was twisted in a familiar expression of anger. His eyes, a disconcerting turquoise, were not fixed on the softly lapping surface; rather they were focused in the past, on a _memory_...

Such a memory, to make him scowl so!

Nathyrra frowned thoughtfully as she watched the tiefling from a little way away. He had been happy, for a time, but now his persona had lapsed back into the familiar standoffish attitude. It was hard to get more than a few sentences out of him, nowadays.

Nathyrra remembered the conversation she'd had with him in frightening detail. It was after the battle with Mephistopheles, and Valen had stormed out of the Lolth temple, his face a mixture of sorrow and anger. Anger won over, however.

"What's happened?" Nathyrra had said, falling into step beside him. Valen had not glanced at her.

"The battle is over. We have won. She has commitments...people who depend on her..." he muttered, under his breath, his steps brisk.

It took a moment for Nathyrra to catch on to his train of thought. "As do you, I suppose?"

"I don't know what I thought," said Valen, slowing, "Once it was over...I suppose I just assumed..."

"You'd be together, forever? Love doesn't work like that, Valen," Nathyrra had said, hoping that would help. It didn't.

He had stopped by the My'athar public house and turned on her, his eyes flashing. "What would you know of _love_, drow? Have you ever been in _love_? No? You'd sooner kill a man than kiss him! So don't you speak to me of _love_! Now if you will excuse me," he had scathed, "I have to help Commander Imloth with the wounded troops."

Valen's temper was a truly frightening thing, once unleashed. It was considering this, then, that Nathyrra approached the sullen tiefling.

"Lith My'athar is restored," she said. "Both the Seer's people and those who remain of Maeviir house are safe. You're not _needed_ here, Valen."

"The Seer needs me," he grunted.

"Maybe. Or is it you, who needs _her_?" Nathyrra turned away, exasperated, and strode towards the temple.

Imloth, a few guards, and the Seer were inside. The Seer was seated on the throne underneath the great carving of Lolth, her staff aglow at her side. Her eyes were closed.

Imloth strode forward to block Nathyrra's approach. "Shh!" he hissed. "The Seer is having a vision."

They both stood aside and waited. The Seer did not move or speak, and she hardly seemed to breathe. It was as if she had been turned to stone.

"How long has she been like this?" Nathyrra whispered to the Commander. He shook his head.

"An hour, maybe. No-one can wake her."

"Who would want to, if she is having a vision?"

The minutes passed in silence. After a moment, the Seer's lips moved, voicing words no one could hear.

The Seer opened her eyes, looking in confusion at her surroundings. She recollected herself quickly enough and stood, walking to Nathyrra. "Where is Valen?" Her voice was soft, but commanding.

"The tiefling?" frowned Nathyrra. "He's sulking, as usual. By the docks."

"Send for him," the Seer said, gazing into the middle distance. Her lips had a curious smile on them. "Tell him it's _time..._"

  
  


"Time for what, Seer?" Valen stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the seated figure. The Seer had her staff resting across her lap, and was looking down at the tiefling with a benevolent expression.

"Time for you to leave Lith My'athar, Valen," she said.

All but Commander Imloth and Nathyrra had been sent from the room. Both of them looked up in surprise, but no-one was more surprised than Valen, who stared at the Seer as if she were a stranger.

"Leave? Now? _Why?_"

"It has been many days and many nights since the defeat of the Valsharess and Mephistopheles. The armies have been rebuilt, house Maeviir is cooperating ever since the ...tragic... death of Matron Myrune, and I am in perfect health. Why do you remain here, Valen?"

Valen frowned. "It is my _duty_, Seer. My duty to the people."

"The people?" The Seer frowned. "No, Valen. It is your duty to _me_ that keeps you bound here. I may have given you the incentive, but _you_ were the one who freed yourself from a life of servitude. _You_ were the one who sought _me _out. And now you must be the one to make a choice for yourself. I cannot force you to leave, the same as I cannot force you to stay." 

Valen looked down, a pained expression crossing his features. His tail twisted agitatedly behind him.

"You must make a _choice_, Valen." The Seer watched with an air of expectance. 

Nathyrra and Imloth looked at each other. There was an atmosphere of a future hanging in the balance, of fate tipping some grand scale...

Valen glanced up, and opened his mouth to speak...


	4. Yawning Portal

**Rain and Brimstone**

  
  


"_What_ did you pull up the well?" 

Durnan stared in horror at his wife, Mhaere, as he took the stairs three at a time. He breezed through what until recently had been a makeshift shelter for the Waterdeep refugees, and into the main room of his inn, the Yawning Portal.

"Well, it sounded like a man," Mhaere said. "He was quite insistent that we pull him up. He said he just wanted to talk. But he has _horns_, and a _tail_, so I wasn't sure if I should let him in..."

"Horns and a tail," muttered Durnan. "Horns and a tail. What will it be next, Mhaere?"

"I don't know. Perhaps a dragon in search of a good pie? A party of drow for a drink of famous Waterdeep beer?"

Durnan chuckled, but the sound died in his throat as he descended into the Well Room. Ever since all that business with Halaster and the drow armies had been sorted out, Durnan hadn't seen too much need for a whole bunch of guards in the Well Room, and had thus stationed only three there.

All three of said guards were lying unconscious on the floor, a frightening man with - yes, horns and a tail - standing over them, an un-bloodied flail in his hand.

"I only hit them with the handle," he told Durnan, spinning the flail. "They should be up and about in a couple of hours."

"Who _are_ you?" Durnan drew his longsword, pushing his wife behind him.

"My name is Valen Shadowbreath," he said, giving his flail one final, showy twirl before strapping it to his belt. "I fought side-by-side with the elven cleric, Lineth Raine, in the battle to defeat the Valsharess and the arch-devil, Mephistopheles. I seek Lineth now."

Durnan lowered the sword, but only slightly. "I'm afraid you're not in luck, Mr....Shadowbreath," he said slowly. "Lineth Raine left Waterdeep some time ago."

For a moment, Durnan thought the ..man was going to attack him, but Valen seemed to compose himself. "Do you have any idea where she has gone?" he said from between gritted teeth.

"I'm not sure I should be telling you this," Durnan said. "If you are truly a friend of Lineth Raine's, then..." Durnan sought for some sort of question to ask. "What colour hair does she have?"

"Blonde," Valen answered curtly.

"And her eyes?"

"As brown as the bark on a Dryad's tree, although I haven't seen a tree in quite a long time," Valen said. "Do I pass the test?"

"Hang on, hang on," said Durnan, disconcerted. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth to Mhaere. "Dear, is that kobold still here?"

"What, Deekin? Yes, he's here..."

"Fetch him, will you?"

Mhaere nodded and ascended the stairs. Durnan stepped a little closer to Valen, studying the man closely. "What are you?"

"I am a tiefling. Born of human and demon parentage," Valen said. 

"Sounds like you must have had a difficult home life," said Durnan. 

"I was a slave most of my earlier life," the tiefling said coldly. Durnan winced, and wisely decided to keep his mouth shut until Mhaere returned.

It only took another minute for his wife to come back down the stairs, a small figure in tow.

The figure looked at Valen and grinned, mouth bristling with snaggled teeth. "Valen! You is here!"

"Yes, I is..._am_," Valen said. "What are you doing away from your boss, Deekin?"

The kobold opened his mouth to speak, but in a swift movement Durnan sheathed his sword. "Well, if Deekin knows you, I guess you truly _are_ a friend of Lineth Raine's, and as such, a friend of mine." He stepped forward and extended a hand. "My name is Durnan. I apologize for the misunderstanding."

Valen stared at the hand for a moment before gingerly shaking it. "Quite all right," he grunted. "And I am...sorry," the word seemed distasteful to him, "For knocking out your guards. They were looking at me in a way I didn't much like."

"Well, I shall tell them not to look at you at all, then, once they wake up," said Durnan cheerfully. "Now, tell me...why exactly are you looking for Lineth?"

Deekin spoke before Valen could open his mouth. "Oh! Deekin knows! Valen and Boss real good friends! I even writes in book that Valen tells Boss he l-"

Valen grabbed his flail, pointedly, and Deekin quieted. "I am, as the kobold says, a friend," Valen hissed, his eyes never leaving the kobold.

"Ah, well...she's gone to Hilltop. I believe she trained there with her old Master. Deekin can take you there."

"Ooh, yes!" Deekin clapped his hands. "It will be just like old times, right, Valen!?"

"Indeed," Valen said, and he looked so scandalized Durnan laughed.  
  



	5. Faith

**Rain and Brimstone**

  
  
  
  


"How long now?"

The tiefling and the kobold trudged through the snow, the latter struggling a bit as the snow was very deep and he had quite short legs.

"Oh, not far. We is almost there!" Deekin puffed a bit as he led the way. Valen was having to walk quite slowly owing to the kobold's slow progress. "You nots like the cold, huh?" Deekin said.

"No," scowled Valen. "It does not agree with my fiery blood."

"If you blood so fiery, why you nots melt the snow?"

Valen's scowl deepened. "I don't know. Are you _sure_ this is the right way?"

Deekin stopped, and Valen almost knocked him over. The kobold's head swivelled from side to side as he surveyed the area, and he seemed to cheer up. "Yeps! This is definitely the right way." 

Deekin resumed the gruelling trek through the snow, and Valen followed, grumbling death-threats under his breath.

He stopped thoughtfully. "Almost _where_, just as a matter of interest?"

Deekin did a 360 in the snow and looked up at Valen. "Oh, we gots a long time to gets to Hilltop. But we is almost at inn..."

Valen sighed and waved a hand. "Lead on, then."

  
  
  
  


"Halflings are certainly very hard to entertain," Lineth remarked to Mischa as the sun descended towards the horizon. 

"Though I'm glad they're gone," she continued, sitting next to Mischa on the bench.

"Really? I don't know. I'm a bit worried, to tell the truth...I mean, Katriana _said_ they'd be able to make it to Sundabar, but..." Mischa frowned and bit her lip, glancing around the empty house. 

The halflings had evacuated an hour or so before, and had left a lot of mess behind them. Fortunately, Mischa didn't mind doing housework, and had cleaned it up in record time with Lineth's assistance.

"You really _are_ good, aren't you, Mischa?" Lineth said thoughtfully as she gazed at the human. 

She reflected on how much her old friends had changed. They were still the same people, essentially - Xanos was still the bad-tempered brute he had always been, Dorna was still...well, Dorna, and Mischa was as naive as ever.

But ever since Drogan's death, there was something fundamentally _different_ about them. They'd all had to...make do. Take care of themselves, rather than relying on the old dwarf to protect them.

"You're Good, too," Mischa reminded her. "Unless...don't tell me you have forsaken your god and your calling in the course of your adventure...?" She looked worried.

Lineth laughed, trying to make light of the situation, but Mischa's words were truer than she knew. There were times when she had contemplated turning to the side of Evil..."No, Mischa. My faith in Lathander is as strong as ever. Sometimes, though, I suspect it is Ilmater rather than the Morninglord looking over me."

"Ilmater...God of martyrdom..." Mischa frowned. "Has your time abroad really been that awful, Lineth?"

"At times," the Elf sighed. "Mystra has certainly been kind to you, though."

"Well, the goddess of magic doesn't really hold with dangerous adventures, I don't think," smiled Mischa. She twisted her hands, a familiar habit Lineth remembered.

"No? I think Drogan would have disagreed with you on that." Lineth knew, a second after she had said it, that it was the wrong thing _to_ say. Mischa's smile melted like a candle in Hell, and her face darkened. She looked down.

"I'm sorry," Lineth said quietly. 

"No, it's all right," Mischa said, standing up. "Drogan was...an adventurer. Mystra led him on the path that he took. I...should not be sad. It was his time, I suppose."

"I suppose so," agreed Lineth heavily.

"Now, let's not talk about that," said Mischa lightly. "I think we've all had a long day. You look quite exhausted, Lineth. We'd all feel better for some sleep."

"Yes...sleep," Lineth murmured, getting to her feet. Suddenly, she felt quite tired. She frowned slightly at the paladin, wondering if she mightn't have heard her whisper a sleep-spell under her breath.

No matter. There was a warm bed waiting upstairs. 

"I hope I didn't overdo it with the spell," Mischa muttered to herself, once Lineth had staggered up the stairs.

Lineth Raine slept all night, and most of the following day, too.


	6. Light and Laughter

**Rain and Brimstone**

  
  


The time passed easily at the house in Hilltop. Lineth Raine's nights were, for the most part, unhindered by dreams, and her days were full of the smiles and chatter of old friends. She spent many an hour reminiscing, and explaining at length some of her adventures, while her friends sat amazed.

Although Lineth thought her friends had changed, to them it was _she_ who had undertaken the most amazing transformation.

Lineth loved being back in Hilltop. She planned to leave after no more than five days' rest, but the winter grew colder and her supply of Velox Berries was low. So she elected to stay another day...and another...and another....

And finally came the day where she decided to leave. 

"I must go," she murmured to herself as she dressed, "Or I will end up staying _indefinitely_. My wandering days aren't over yet..."

She went downstairs with her bag looped over her shoulders.

Mischa and Xanos were awake in the main room. There was quite a sizeable amount of snow by the front door, which Mischa was industriously shovelling away. Xanos looked like he wanted to kill something.

"What's going on?" Lineth asked as she approached Xanos and Mischa. Dorna was no-where to be seen.

"There's been a blizzard," Xanos said gruffly, and scowled.

Lineth frowned. _Excellent timing_, she thought bitterly.

"The snow's waist-deep out there," Xanos continued. "For me, anyway...I have no doubt the dwarf would be up to her neck in it."

"Shhh, Xanos! At least only make fun when Dorna is _here_, please." Mischa finished shovelling the snow into a bucket. Lineth sighed.

"Going somewhere?" Xanos had noticed her pack.

"Not anymore." Lineth slumped into a chair.

"Oh, Lineth," cried Mischa. "You weren't planning on _leaving_?"

Lineth shrugged. "I was," she admitted. "I can't just _stay_ here. I had plans to travel...perhaps to Neverwinter, and then Baldur's Gate. I haven't been there yet. And then I was thinking I might go home..."

"Home?" Mischa looked at her and frowned. "You know, Lineth, I don't think you ever said where you were born."

"I...don't think about my childhood very much," the Elf said thoughtfully. "It was over a hundred years ago, after all."

"So? Where exactly _is_ your hometown, Elf? I for one would very much like to know what place spawned such a famed adventurer." Xanos laughed. "You could probably make the place a tourist attraction, just by being _born_ there."

"I don't appreciate your tone, Orc," snapped Lineth. 

"Ah, we are seeing the _old_, snappish Lineth at last, rather than your new 'famed adventurer' persona," scathed the sorcerer, before spinning on his heel and stalking up the stairs.

"What's gotten into him?" Lineth asked Mischa, who frowned.

"I don't know. Your return has dredged up some...bitter memories, I think. After all, you did choose Dorna to go with you to Undrentide rather than him," said Mischa.

"I didn't need a sorcerer, I needed a rogue," said Lineth. "Xanos would have blasted everything to high Hells, whereas Dorna is much more stealthier in her approach. I thought Xanos understood that. But all that was a very long time ago..."

"It wasn't, you know," said Mischa, looking at her oddly. "Not for an Elf, anyway, I'd surmise."

Lineth frowned, looking into the middle distance. She sighed before answering. "I suppose...where I was...time moved in a different way."

"What? Backwards?" Mischa smiled.

Lineth did not smile. She attempted to, however, and ended up looking as if she'd sucked on a lemon. She sighed and stopped grimacing. "I'm sorry. It's still hard to think about...some of the things that happened when I was..."

"What's going on here?" Dorna stamped noisily down the stairs.

"Some rogue you are!" Mischa exclaimed, voicing some of Lineth's thoughts. "We could hear you coming a mile away."

"First and foremost, I'm a dwarf," Dorna pointed out. "Second of all, I'm a sneak. After that, I'm a cleric. Which is fortunate, human, because someone will have to reattach your ears after I've cut them off!

"Hush." Lineth laughed, her melancholy mood dispelled by Dorna's familiar bluntness. "There's been a storm, Dorna," she continued, answering the so-called rogue's earlier question. "It's...uh...head-deep out there."

"For me, you mean," the dwarf said sourly.

"Oh, don't be that way."

"There should be a Campaign for Equal Heights," Dorna muttered as she went over to one of the windows, standing on tiptoes so she could see out.

Lineth couldn't resist. "Want me to get you a box?" 

Dorna turned around. The Elf laughed. "Are you sure you aren't a wizard as well? Because I could swear there's daggers coming out of your eyes.."

"Speaking of wizards, I saw the orc storm up the stairs a moment ago-"

"I'm not a wizard, dwarf, I'm a sorcerer," Xanos said, creeping silently down the steps. "And I was getting my cloak. It's cold in here." He shot a withering glance at Lineth who, quite unexpectedly, started laughing.

"What is so funny, Elf?" The half-orc bared sharpened canines as the elven woman clutched her sides.

"You - a half-orc Sorcerer - are quieter than a roguish dwarf!"

"Roguish." said Mischa. "I do not think that word means what you think it means."

"All right, fun's over," Dorna said, clapping her hands together loudly. "It looks as if we're snowed in." She sighed heavily and looked at the assembled company with something approaching distaste. "I don't fancy being stuck in here with you lot, but it appears I have little choice..."

"There's a shovel in the pantry," Xanos said, wrapping his cloak around his towering form. "Would you like me to dig you a tunnel?"

Mischa walked over to Lineth, who was shaking her head and cradling her pack in her lap. The paladin sat down and leaned close. 

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say the dwarf and the half-orc are in love..."

The snow-covered house echoed with Lineth Raine's laughter.

  
  


The day passed quickly. The foursome spent their time playing poker with a deck of Dorna's old cards. Lineth ended up winning most of the time, and Xanos eventually left the table in disgust.

"Are you sure you aren't the personification of the Goddess of Luck?" he snarled as he folded.

"Why, thank you, Xanos," Lineth said sweetly. "I'm sure she would be flattered at being compared to me."

"Egotistic elf..."

"Ham-fisted half-orc..."

Mischa smiled and Dorna laughed. Play continued into late evening, and it ended with Lineth taking back to her room most of Mischa's stash of healing potions, one of Dorna's holy water traps, and a grand total of ten gold pieces. Lineth smiled as she poured her acquisitions into her bottomless bag.

"You're too lucky sometimes, Lineth," said Mischa as she stood up and yawned. "By Mystra, I'm stiff."

"I don't think Mystra had anything to do with it," grumbled Dorna as she slid off her chair. "Curse Tymora if you will."

"Oh, don't blame your losing to some divine providence," Lineth said, leaning back. "I'm just a natural talent at cards."

"Natural cheat, more like. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Mischa. Lineth," Dorna nodded at the other women before ascending the stairs.

"It's nice being back here," Lineth said as she stood up, glancing out the window. It was dark, but Lineth's superb night vision could see it was snowing gently. She sighed heavily. "I hope the snow lets up..."

"It should be a sunny day tomorrow." Mischa looked worried. "You really aren't going to leave, are you?"

Lineth gave her old friend a long look. "I have to, Mischa," she said. "If I don't go now, I'll end up staying forever."

"Is that really so bad?"

The Elf smiled. "Maybe not, but...there's still a few cities in Faerun that don't know my name."

Mischa smiled, too. "I'm sure you're fairly notorious anywhere, Lineth." 

"Yes, perhaps." Lineth looked away. Truthfully, sometimes she wished she'd never gone on any of those adventures.... In some ways she wondered if she mightn't have been better off, settling down with some Elven man in Silverymoon, having twenty children and dying at the ripe age of eight hundred. But she was a victim of circumstance, it seemed: Whenever there was a dirty job that needed doing, Lineth Raine was the only one around to get it done.

"I think I'll go to bed," she said, standing up. "Goodnight, Mischa."

"Goodnight, Lineth."

Lineth went up the stairs in silence.


	7. A Bump in the Night

**Rain and Brimstone**

  
  
  
  


Once she'd closed the door to her room, Lineth rooted around in her pack for a bit until she found a long, very crinkled nightdress. She took off her armour, and slid the dress over her underclothes. She sniffed her arm and winced - she smelled quite a lot like armour polish.

One more thing, Lineth thought just before she got into bed. She reached into her bag once more and withdrew her sword.

It was long, and razor-sharp. White light glimmered at the paper-thin tip and just above the jewelled hilt. Rumour had it the sword had been blessed by Lathander himself, but the God of Spring didn't hold much with cutting people open. Lineth pulled a chair next to her bed and placed her sword, within easy reach, upon it.

For some reason she had trouble sleeping this night. Her thoughts dwelt briefly upon the satirical words uttered by her and her friends today, and she smiled. It was good to be among friendly faces, even if those faces were constantly trading barbs.

Her smile faded as her thoughts drifted to a ...less friendly face.

A handsome one, certainly, but with wrinkles where the constant frowning had taken its toll. A face framed by locks of crimson hair, a pair of glowing blue eyes...

Lineth drifted off to sleep with the face held like a precious thing in her mind's eye.

  
  
  
  


BOOM.

The sound jarred Lineth from her dreamless sleep, some hours later. At first she thought she was imaging it and groaned, rolling over and stuffing a pillow sleepily over her head.

BOOM.

The sound was repeated, louder. Lineth sat up, suddenly alert. Her keen Elven eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness of her room, but the glowing silhouette of her sword was clearly visible. Lineth lunged and caught it, standing on sleepy, uncertain feet.

She crept forward and opened her door. The hallway was empty, lightless and silent. The banging was coming from downstairs.

BOOM.

Lineth shivered as she left her room, walking quickly and silently. Her sword cast an eerie glow along the floor. She descended the stairs, but on the third step, it let out a loud creak. She stood illuminated by her sword, holding her breath.

No one rushed at her from the shadows. No one struck at her from behind.

She resumed her slow progress down the stairs. The pounding came again, faster.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Three times. Someone - or something - was pounding on the front door!

The next few moments passed in a blur. Lineth took the last few steps in a flying leap, landed on her side, rolled upright and into a fighting stance as soon as her bare feet hit the cold floorboards. 

At the same moment, the door burst open.

A shower of snow and ice hit Lineth directly in the face. She gasped and staggered back as the snow poured in from outside, the white stuff covering the WELCOME doormat. A tall form stood silhouetted in the whiteness, looming over Lineth like some huge stone monolith.

She raised her sword and peered through stinging, watering eyes, ignoring the snow by her feet. The figure lurched forward, and to Lineth's surprise, turned its back as it fought to heave the door closed.

The figure finally managed to wrestle the wood shut against the torrent of snow, and leaned against it. Lineth fancied she could hear it gasping.

She renewed her numb grip on her sword as he - it had to be a he, no woman was that big -  turned back to her. Lineth gasped as she saw he held a small, crumpled form in its arms, and gasped again as she recognized it.

She rushed forward. The large figure did not resist as she wrested the stricken Deekin from its arms.

She lowered the kobold to the floor. He was stiff with cold and his normally red wings had turned a sickening blue. Lineth closed her eyes and raised her hands, summoning forth all her magical power.

She felt it flow through her, from the backs of her eyeballs to the tips of her toes, until finally it sparked off her fingertips. The words came with it, ancient words of power, words to invoke healing and mending and warmth. Blue and gold light shot from her outspread hands, and flowed into Deekin's recumbent form. 

The kobold coughed once, twice, and then settled back with a contented sigh. The colour leeched back into his wings as they twitched and wrapped around his shivering form.

Lineth leaned back on her haunches, exhausted. She'd forgotten about the strange man as soon as she'd laid eyes on Deekin, and had dropped her sword. She realized she was entirely defenceless if whoever it was decided to attack before she could retrieve her sword from several meters away.

She looked up at the figure.

He was wearing a hood, and a dark and heavy cloak over his armour. As she watched, though, gauntleted hands rose and the hood was slowly lowered.

Lineth breathed out, feeling weak.

"Valen?"


End file.
